Fifty Shades of Fae
by didgeridork
Summary: Valkubus - BDSM/Smut heavy. "Bo's eyes are glowing in the way only incredibly powerful dark fae can achieve after many, many centuries of practice. This should scare you. Terrify you even. You know she must actively be using her powers for her eyes to glow like that, but since you're the only one currently trapped in her gaze, it means she must be using them on *you*."


Just a little something I've been toying with writing for ages. As the title suggests, this story will contain a Dom/Sub relationship, as well as graphic descriptions of BDSM and sex. Adult language will be plentiful as well. If you are underage, or any of the aforementioned bothers you, I'd suggest finding another story to read.

The main pairing is obviously Valkubus, but there will be some smatherings of Doccobus and Dybo here and there, with the possibility of some CopDoc and WolfCop?(dyson/tamsin) down the line. We'll see how it goes.

I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know what you think in a review! I'm definitely open to suggestions, particularly when we get to the bdsm/smut ;)

* * *

** Chapter 1 - To Hel and Back**

You've never been much a fan of dark fae establishments. Not then, and most certainly not now. An overwhelmingly acrid stench of bodily fluids seems to permeate everything from the floorboards, to the tables, to the toilets. It brings back some rather unpleasant memories of your childhood growing up in the middle ages, when sanitation and hygiene was only just becoming a thing.

Shaking the imagined filth from your body, you attempt to clear your head and get into the game. You're here for a reason; a job. To find 'that which he seeks', and deliver it unto him. It's low level mercenary work, something you would have once considered far beneath you, but times have changed. You have changed. Where once you were tasked with laying waste to entire armies, now you're only good for tracking down your bosses long lost kin.

Leifs, the dark fae tavern your daily reconnaissance has lead you to most, is unusually busy for a thursday evening. Growling pre-emptively at the numerous men attempting to gain your attention by brushing against you or by blocking your path, you make your way through the crowd towards the back corner of the bar. It's where _she_ usually sits, most often surrounded by half a dozen oblivious, and presumably at one point, 'succubused' men and women.

It makes your blood boil, thinking about the love struck idiots falling all over each other simply to try and gain a second of the unaligned succubus's attention.

On the surface, there's nothing special about Bo. Nothing that makes her anything other than a hot piece of ass eagerly exploiting her assets in order to obtain copious amounts of sex. But your numerous years spent working for _him_ have taught you better than to judge a book by its cover. Bo is special, and you're all too aware that your usual approach to this type of situation isnot going to work here.

"Black and Tan," you tell the bartender as you change course, squeezing in between two seemingly plastered, dark fae bikers. You ignore the disgruntled glares and grumbles from the numerous patrons you've just cut in front of. Fuck them if they think you give a shit. You're not here to make friends.

"On the house," the bartender winks as he slides your drink across the slick bar top to you.

You had no intentions of paying to begin with, but still manage to put on your best 'appreciative, flirty' expression, delivering promises with your eyes your body has no intentions of keeping. You're long over the days where sleeping with the barkeep was the only way to make good on your tabs.

Taking a generous sip of your drink, you once again make your way towards the back of the bar. Despite the dense crowd and the smoke obstructing your view, you easily spot your target, sitting surprisingly by herself in the corner booth. She's surrounded by an assortment of unfinished drinks, obviously not all hers, yet her brain dead love zombies are nowhere to be found. Though even more startling, perhaps, than her suddenly disappeared table mates, is the fact that she's looking _directly at you_.

Stumbling over your own two feet in alarm, you cause some of your drink to slosh out of its glass and onto the back of your hand, down your arm and beneath your jacket sleeve. You would be embarrassed at the clumsy display if you weren't now hyper focused on the set of startlingly blue eyes currently staring back at you.

Bo's eyes are glowing in the way that only incredibly powerful dark fae can achieve, after many, many centuries of practice. It should scare you, this previously unobserved fact. Terrify you, even. You know Bo must actively be using her powers for her eyes to glow like that, but since you're the only one currently trapped in her gaze, it means she must be using them on _you_.

This should honestly frighten you right down to the bone. You know the stories. You've been told them ever since you were a little kid. You know what happens to fae that allow themselves to be put under a succubus's spell. How they seem to lose control over their desires, as well as the willpower to resist the desires of others.

Where only moments ago you would have found yourself nauseous at the very prospect of being enslaved in this way to the succubus, right now all you can think about is what it would feel like to have those piercing, sky blue eyes staring down at you as your body writhes and twists in pain, begging for its final release.

"Oh, fuck me," you whisper to yourself as you feel an uncontrollable blush settling in over your usually pale, cold, scandinavian features. Despite there still being a good ten or twelve feet in between you and the succubus, you know you're completely and utterly trapped. It's quite overwhelming actually, the dawning realization that she didn't even have to _touch_ you to mark you as hers. All it took was a look. A simple glance in her direction, and it was all over.

"You can do this Tamsin," you whisper under your breath, slowly becoming aware of the alcohol that's splashing down your pant legs and onto the floorboards beneath your outstretched and now violently trembling hand. It's a strange and wholly unhelpful thought, but you don't ever remember a pint glass being this so damn_ heavy_.

"Careful," a voice unlike any you've ever come across whispers in your ear.

Startled even further, you jerk your body away from the sound, the liquid in your glass swaying akin to your movements. Your drink is half gone, which is fitting since that's exactly how you feel with the Succubus now standing mere inches from you.

"Here, let me get that for you," Bo's dark, gravely voice practically purrs as she reaches out and steadies your nervous hand, taking your drink from you and setting it down on a nearby ledge.

You mourn its absence only momentarily, your full attention now on the feel of the other girl's hand on your own. She's somehow managed to procure herself a napkin, and is delicately wiping your beer soaked skin. She's being so gentle, so meticulous, spreading each of your fingers in order to mop up the mess you've made in between your knuckles. This continues for at least a minute, and you remain fixated on her movements the entire time.

"All clean." Bo discards the napkin in the same way she did your drink. Returning to yourself, you try to take your hand back, but her grip only tightens as she smiles at you, indicating with her head that you should join her at her booth. You know at this point you should probably say something, anything, but the moment you part your lips, all that escapes is a low, breathy moan.

The corner of Bo's mouth raises in what appears to be a cross between a mischievous and a seductive smirk. On anyone else, the tiny gesture would have looked strange and uninviting, but this isn't anyone else. This is the girl you're about to sell your soul to. The girl you've just fallen for, hook, line, and sinker.

As you follow Bo towards her table, you attempt to vacate your mind of all the reasons you're doing this. You still have a job to do, and you have every intention of doing it, but right now that is neither here nor there. Your boss hadn't given you a deadline on completing your assignment, so you don't see the harm in belaying that end goal a little in order to achieve a few minor ones of your own.

Bo keeps her grip on your hand as you sit down on the well worn, dark, leather bench. You're expecting her to sit opposite you, and your body shudders involuntarily when she instead nudges you to move in further so the two of you can sit side by side. Even though the corner booth is atypically large, with room enough for a dozen or so adults to sit comfortably, you can't help but feel claustrophobic. Like you can't move, can't breathe. Can't get away from the sheer presence of the succubus next to you.

"I knew you'd come," Bo breaks the silence, shocking you back from your thoughts and into the present once again. You snap your gaze up from your joined hands to the brunette's face. Her eyes are still glowing, a psychic heat radiating from her crystalline orbs, warming your already flushed cheeks. You feel like a little girl again - pure and untouched from the horrors and atrocities of war. The horrors and atrocities that have been your existance for the last thousand or so years.

"What? How?" you stammer in alarm, having now found your voice. How could Bo have known you were coming? Does that mean she also knows who you are? Or more importantly, why you're seeking her out? Is your plan ruined? Your job a bust? You start to panic at the mere thought of returning to _him_ empty handed. Gulping down the growing knot in your throat, you can't help but wish you still had your drink.

As if reading your mind, Bo slides a half empty bottle of beer across the messy table towards you. You hesitate for only a millisecond before taking and emptying it in one go. You reason it wouldn't make sense for Bo to drug your drink, not when she's already successfully drugged your mind. Setting the empty bottle down, you wipe at the moisture on your lips with the back of your hand. You're still waiting for Bo to answer.

"I've seen you here every night for the past few weeks. Always alone, never with someone. Always in the shadows, watching me, studying me. You didn't think I knew what you were doing, but I could tell. I could sense it. That first night, as I watched you repeatedly glance my way, I knew..." Bo doesn't finish her sentence, instead reaching for a glass of what appears to be Jack and Coke.

"Knew... what...?" you ask in trepidation, your breath nearly gone from your lungs. If she knows the truth then you're a goner. If not by her hand, then most certainly by _his_. It's a bit of a shock, but you've never truly feared death until this very moment. Valkyries aren't simply reborn of their own free will. You need _him_ to revive you, so failing this job is essentially a death sentence for you. A_ permanent _one, that is.

You watch as Bo leisurely takes a sip of her drink, her tongue slipping from between her lips in order to collect the few drops stuck lingering on her skin. It's mesmerizing, watching that dark pink piece of flesh as it brushes back and forth over the girl's lower lip. You desperately want to know what it would feel like to have that tongue against your own lips. _Both_ sets of them.

Bo pauses in her actions, and you quickly realize she's caught you staring. You feel your skin attempting to blush even further, but it's already as red as it can go. Thank god for the poor lighting in the bar. In direct sunlight, you'd probably look like a clown. A brain dead, love struck, zombie clown.

"You want me, valkyrie," Bo finally answers, though her response only creates more questions in your head. "You know who I am. You know what I can do... And you like it. No, you _love_ it. You love the thought of being my slave, don't you? You love the thought of being stripped naked and tied to my bed, your precious little body open and begging for my attention."

You whimper at the images flooding your mind. Graphic visuals of yourself being fucked into oblivion by the succubus. You realize she must be controlling your thoughts, directing the scenes playing out in your minds eye. You're seeing things you've never even dreamed of before. Things you'd never thought you'd want done to you. "Oh fuck me..." you gasp as the overly erotic images continue to play in your head.

"You want to be my fuck toy. You want to serve me in whatever way I demand. I can sense it, valkyrie. You want to be dominated. _Need_ to be dominated."

You find yourself slowly nodding your head. You _do_ want this. You want this so badly it actually feels like a lead weight dangling right over your heart. All thoughts of this simply being a job have now fled, along with your once crippling fear of your bosses response to your failing his task. Just let him try and harm you now. You haven't agreed to anything yet, but there's an overwhelming sense that Bo would protect you if he did.

"All you have to do is say you want this. Just those few simple words and you and I can be out of here, off to places you never even knew existed. What do you say, Valkyrie? Do you want to be _mine_?"

You nod again, your heart beating so loudly in your chest you're certain those across the bar can hear it.

"I need you to say it out loud. Say it, and it will be so."

"I- I want it," you gasp, your hand still held in the succubus's grip feels like its on fire.

"Want what?" Bo pushes, her eyes glowing so bright you can't see the rest of her face. You can feel her thought. You know she's smiling.

"I want you, I want to be yours." As the words leave your mouth, what feels like a bolt of electricity shoots down your spine, settling directly in your lap. "Oh!" you gasp at the sensations flooding through you. You don't ever remember being this aroused, this quickly.

"Want to be my what?" She's playing with you now, but you don't care.

"Your slave! You uh- your toy! Your fuck toy! Your _bitch_!" You can barely think at this point, your body feeling like its on the verge of something huge. Something monstrous, something you've never even been _close_ to feeling before. Bo is only touching your hand, but in that moment you'd bet your life that you're just three seconds from coming.

"Good girl."

And then it's gone. The warmth and the fire, that sensation that you're about to fall off a deep, jagged cliff. Whatever Bo was doing to you, she's stopped now, leaving you actually in pain from how close you'd been to euphoria. You want that feeling back. You _need _that feeling back. You try and tell her this, but all that comes out is a pathetic whimper and a half cry. You don't even know who you are anymore. You just know that you need to feel that again. You need the succubus to make you feel that.

"Come, valkyrie," Bo tells you as she begins to slide out of the booth, tugging you along with her. Her choice of wording only serves to frustrate you even further, which you're positive had been her point.

Forgetting about everything, past and present and future, you obediently follow Bo through the crowd. This time no one dares try and get your attention, the sea of people parting down the middle, allowing you both to pass without incident. You can't help a smirk as you cast the currently wide eyed bartender a glance. This right here is a message your body will gladly back up.

You're Bo's now, and he knows it. They all know it. In fact, you're pretty sure if _he_ were watching right now, he'd know it too. Grinning selfishly at the thought, you tighten your hand around Bo's, content and willing to follow her to Hel and back.


End file.
